Voiceless: Echoes
by harvingtoniii
Summary: Punk AU: Elsa Winters is riding high as her band 'Arendhelle' becomes the hot product of Southern Island records. These are the stories of her, her band and her former roadie (now lover); Anna Aren as they figure out how to live in the limelight and deal with a new brand of people: the celebrities, fans and musicians. [Elsanna - Not sisters] Series of one-shot styled stories.
1. Chapter 1: Haus-Party

**Haus Party. **

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><p>Despite the romanticism and rose tinted hues that plagued the perception of New York City; winter just as dreary in the metropolitan capital of the world as it was in any other corner of the universe. Taking any form of public transport was an insufferable experience, somewhat akin to stepping into a tropical microcosm in winter clothes. The streets were no better, the parallel monoliths shielding any kind of sunlight from heating the frozen streets and their equally frozen inhabitants.<p>

Elsa Winters: tattooed front woman of _Arendhelle_; (one of the hottest punk bands in the world at that moment in time) was dressed in flattering evening wear and was more than content to enjoy the freeze from the comfort of producer friend Teddy Hausman's three tiered penthouse apartment in uptown. Her coat was airing in a vacuous closet that seemed to suck any semblance of organic matter from the clothes in a bid to preserve the health of the clothes. It transpires that being a producer for one of the most significant labels in Manhattan brings with it a surplus of money and eccentricity. Resulting in the 'airlock' closet; creating a supposed vacuum in the room, the treadmill desk in the kitchen; ('So I can eat, exercise and work in the same space') and the fact that his party was themed around the nineteen thirties whilst somehow incorporating dance music with the vintage orchestration. Of course the playlist was being changed and twisted accordingly every ten minutes: jumping genres, decades and taste. It was classic Hausman; wonderfully scatty with occasional flashes of genius.

This madness was reflected in the extravagance of his apartment. It was three floors high, with the reception on the top floor, opening into a large circular concourse that descended all three floors giving clear view of who to avoid and who to meet. It was on this top floor that the majority of his vintage attired guests seemed to be, admiring the panoramic view from the apartment whilst slowly drinking themselves to a place where dancing would become a possibility. The dance floor was located on the bottom floor and had been acoustically conditioned to be as quiet for neighbours as possible whilst being able to achieve the 'club' sensation that he so desired for occasions such as these.

Elsa's expectation when she received a nonchalant e-mail from Teddy had been of a tiny gathering of his closest friends. What made Elsa one of his closest 'friends' amused her and made her curious as to who else he could have invited to this 'party'. Her and Anna had arrived in typical evening wear and had been greeted by a bustling room with more A-listers per square meter than TMZ's front page.

It was a party that Hausman been somewhat forced into by Miss Skippy Robeson, who was seemingly the only person able to convince the eccentric Mr Hausman that inviting his phone book to his sanctuary for a social event was a good idea. So far, her bout of madness was facilitating a rather enjoyable gathering for the majority of those involved. There was music, drinks, novel musical styled food platters. She could have sworn she had seen one of the more liberal of the Westergaard boys schmoozing his way into a few conversations with a model or two. How Hausman had ended up with the number of the models was beyond her.

The only one taking it easy with the socialisation was the blonde herself, determined to admire the view of crystalline New York; bracing the winds of winter with the resolute persistence to remain that had kept it thus far.

If it weren't for the thump of the bass from below she would have got lost in her thoughts completely.

It wasn't that she didn't appreciate the fact that she was popping bottles with people who could viably have the gross domestic product of a small nation in their bank account. She was just thinking over an 'offer' from Hausman.

'If you want to stay you have to showcase your talents,' he had pleaded with her as a group of smart looking people laughed around their champagne flutes; their voices blending into the general pastiche of noise. It had been Teddy's idea that _whoever_ wanted to stay for more than ten minutes had to perform in some capacity.

'Unless you would rather dance?' he had asked, extending a hand.

'Thanks Teddy, but I don't dance,' she quipped scanning the room for an escape from the negotiations. Namely a spark of red in a sea of black and white dresses.

'There are so many friends of mine who have yet to be exposed to your dulcet tones,' he winked letting his grey hair tip gently in her direction.

In the end she had relented, letting Hausman put her down for one song at the very least. To be fair to herself she hadn't been too phased by the motion until a gentleman who was currently riding twelfth position in the Billboard one hundred had nonchalantly stepped up to the microphone and had the whole dance floor in the palm of his hand with only a guitar to and someone to sing to. She promptly hid in the kitchen and took to nibbling a gingerbread set of headphones that were sitting comfortably on the side having just been removed from incubation. Afterwards she had taken to the window, unsure whether to keep gazing out or whether to jump out of it.

It wasn't the fact that she didn't want to, it was more the way that 'number twelve' had just jumped up and had won the room in moment. She'd been riding with the 'big leagues' for three months; hardly a wealth of experience. For one of the first times in her life she felt intimidated by the people in the room. If it was punk gig there was no expectation of her being able to win over an audience. Not so much in this arena, she had to think of something quick that would win everyone over to 'team _Arendhelle_' quickly. She resolved to find Anna and start being pro-active about the situation, so she made for the one place that she knew she'd probably be.

The dance floor.

Anna Aren was one of those terrible extroverts that people like Elsa usually feared the most. They were loud, clumsy and definitely not the kind of person that the calculated, over-analytical Elsa Winters would even consider being around; let alone romantically involved with. But here they were four months into a relationship and somehow both still loving every second. She felt like she knew her well enough to guess that she'd be tripping the light fantastique downstairs with some level of certainty.

Walking towards the spiral staircase she caught more glimpses of celebrities that existed only on gossip sites and television. She felt distinctly voyeuristic despite the knowledge that she was supposed to be there. It felt like a different world to the one she had come from. It was late November and she was only a few months into her contract with Southern Island and only a month or so into the limelight.

It hadn't been _completely _uncomfortable. It had been wonderful to not have to worry about money to some extent, however it had been rather hard to adapt to having an extra hundred and fifty thousand followers on twitter, even her Facebook page that had rapidly become private had to deal with about a hundred fresh followers a day. Then again having your own reddit page was another level of weird and wonderful.

She brushed shoulders with a few more of these surreal people on the stairs before reaching the second floor. Looking over the side of the railing down the circular concourse onto the dance floor she kept her eyes peeled for red hair.

"Dammit Anna," she mumbled, distinctly unaware of her outer monologue.

"Lost someone?" A crystalline voice chimed from behind her. Elsa turned around to meet the voice.

Peering through thick spectacles were a set of misted blue eyes, belonging to one Mr Hausman's best friends.

"Miss Robeson," Elsa replied, "I was wondering if you'd seen Anna?"

The expression that was returned said it all, but she decided it had not been sufficient for the blonde.

"My dear," she said in a long drawl that would have sickened even the most southern of southern belles. "There are more than sixty people here tonight, to know them by name; even with my unusual memory, would be incredibly ambitious yes?"

Elsa nodded and was about to open her mouth to reply when the older woman continued.

"But as luck would have it, she's having a drink over there," she said; pointing towards an elegant mahogany bar.

Turning around she saw that indeed, Anna Aren was having a drink from the bar whilst rambling to the attendant about her new shoes that she had no doubt broken in on the dance floor.

"How long has she been there for?" Elsa asked, pondering the intentions of the gentleman she was talking to.

"Oh since, we started talking." She replied, without a hint of humour or irony.

Elsa fought the temptation to roll her eyes and uttered a quick thanks.

"I'll see that Teddy isn't messing with the playlist again," she casually yelled to the rapidly distancing Elsa.

Anna was perfectly happy sipping her iced water and massaging her sore feet discretely whilst talking to the barman when Elsa swung to her side quickly firing off a drink order to the barman, who obliged by busying himself with various bottles behind the counter.

"Hey you," Anna smiled up at Elsa. She felt good tonight, she had gone for a passive looking lilac dress that seemed to make her eyes look even larger than they were and was happy with the result. At least judging by the way that flame was now engulfing Elsa's cheeks.

"Hey to you too," Elsa managed past the blush. She had needed to battle her mind to not look at Anna's dress all the way up, it did certain things to her that she would rather not act on at what was officially a work-related party.

"Having fun?" She asked, trying not to hint too readily at the barman who was in the twilight stages of preparing her drink.

"All kinds of fun," Anna said brightly. "I danced, ate some cookies, danced some more and now I settled on a drink with Mr. Cline here."

As if on cue, Mr Cline popped up from behind the bar.

"A glass of coke," he said sweetly, his golden brown eyes meeting Elsa's.

"Thanks Mr. Cline," she replied, somewhat wary of his confidence. "Do you always go by Mr. Cline?" taking a sip whilst he responded.

"Thomas Cline," he replied, extending a hand towards the blonde. She took it and shook firmly, establishing who was in control here.

"How long have you been in bartending?" She asked, eyeing the suit he wore for anything that might clue her into his standards: shoes were shined, trousers pressed and tie impeccable.

"Well I'm actually I just came to get a drink and then this one," he winked at Anna, "thought I was a bartender. I'm actually a musician." His smile skewing into his cheeks at the confession. A hand slid back and ruffled the rear of his head as Elsa's eyes widened meagrely.

"Likewise, Thomas," she smiled a crocodile smile. "What do you play?"

"Play?" He guffawed, "I play keys _barely _I might add, and I have also been known to dabble in vocals."

"You think too lowly of yourself," Elsa observed.

"You get used to it when you work behind people, you can't have a competitive ego as background guy." He nodded knowingly before producing a bottle of whiskey and a glass from below the bar and began filling the tumbler.

"So what did you do?" The blonde asked, genuinely curious now.

He finished with the bottle. "Well, I wrote songs for some people and now I'm going my own way. Got a deal with Southern Island a month or two ago, been working on some stuff to put out in the new year." He replaced the whiskey and raised his glass.

"What do we drink to?" He nodded to Anna's glass prompting the redhead to raise it above her head as Elsa flirted with a few thoughts.

"To going our own way," she concluded.

"To going our own way!" The three concurred taking measured sips of their drinks.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have my entry fee to pay." The man replied, sliding out from the bar and walking to the stairs to the third floor.

"He seems nice," Anna said.

The words just hung there as they both thought the same thing. It was just Elsa who was able to articulate it into words.

"Wanna watch?"

"I thought you'd never ask," Anna replied leaping from her seat as the two tore towards the bottom floor.

* * *

><p>The dance floor was jam packed and at one end of the room stood a raised platform where Mr. Thomas Cline now sat comfortably behind a keyboard.<p>

The two girls, caught a place to stand that didn't feel too claustrophobic and smiled at the brown haired man as he fiddled with his microphone before looking up at the small crowd of people.

"Hello Hausman party!" He threw his arms open and welcomed the polite whoops of approval from Anna and Elsa.

"My name is Thomas Cline and this is my entry fee," he winked at Teddy; standing at the back looking rather pleased with himself.

He locked his eyes onto the keyboard and fiddled with a few chords; creating a kind of unusual jazz swing rhythm. "Okay I got it," he said into the microphone.

The jazzy chords continued, and soon the instantly recognisable melody of Billy Joel's 'New York State of Mind' flowed through the PA system as Thomas Cline worked the keys like he'd been born on them.

"Some folks like to get away, for a holiday from the neighbourhood…"

Anna Aren -talent scout for Southern Island- often had to write artist summaries for the bigwigs and she could imagine the one she'd write for Mr. Cline.

'Mr Thomas Cline, a voice as golden as the golden brown eyes that'll melt the heart of every female and otherwise in_clined_ gentleman in the room. His piano work is wonderful mix of strong melody and simple rhythm; perfection for the pop-jazz style he presents.'

Elsa scanned the crowd of people belting out half-tuned renditions of the song and a few of the more capable members trying to harmonise with the man painting with melody behind the red keyboard. It brought the immediate nervousness of having to play at some stage back. She needed a song quickly. She slipped her iPhone out her pocket and began scrolling through artists, trying to find something quickly. She absorbed herself in her phone, neglecting the fact that Mr. Cline had concluded and was now staring at the platinum blonde.

"Well that's a little bit rude," he smirked, causing the room to look at the startled blonde who was now looking rather sheepish.

"What say we get Miss Elsa of _Arendhelle_ up here right now?" He said to the crowd, who replied with conclusive applause and cheers.

Elsa found the path to the stage open up in front of her as she slipped her phone into her pocket and stepped up onto the stage, carelessly slapping Thomas on the back as he stepped past her.

"Tom Cline everyone," she quipped into the microphone; picking up a guitar that was eagerly awaiting the blonde's approval. She slipped the guitar over her neck and began fiddling with the tuning.

"So, everyone having a good night?" She hummed through the microphone, prompting a warm response from the crowd. She hadn't pissed them off too much from looking at her phone during Thomas' performance. She concluded her fiddling with the tuning and flashed her ice blue eyes at the audience.

"Just so you know, I was just choosing a song," a few disbelieving jeers rose from the crowd which Elsa quietened with a hand. "Luckily, I chose a song before I was rudely pulled from the audience." She winked at the brown haired Cline who was wearing an expression of smugness.

Elsa responded by launching into the song, a complex melody belonging to Clean Bandit's 'Rather Be'. Though it was usually played on violin, she was able to get away with it on an acoustic. Soon the crowd were getting into the groove of the song when the chorus hit.

"No, no, no, no. No place I'd rather be!" was soon echoing round the room, much to Elsa's joy. She seemed to have won the audience over pretty soon, despite having nothing but an acoustic guitar to back her up. The song concluded with a fat sounding chord that prompted an appropriately large response from the audience. Elsa's hair had been displaced and a bit of her makeup may have run from sweat but it was nowhere near what she usually looked like at the end of a typical _Arendhelle _gig.

She replaced the guitar and swam up to the microphone, "thank you so much, have a great night everybody." Stepping off the stage she was greeted by a careless slap on the back from Mr. Cline and Miss Aren who were beaming at the bedraggled blonde.

"You did well," the pianist smiled. "One of the more enjoyable songs of the billboard one hundred."

Elsa chuckled, "It was either that or 'Anaconda'," her chuckle became a laugh. "I don't think even Teddy could appreciate that piece of shit."

"Try me my dear!" an excited voice cried above the general hubub as Teddy Hausman made his was upstairs all the while singing; 'my anaconda don't want none unless you got buns hun.'

Anna took the opportunity to exercise the jukebox in her head.

"My Anna Aren don't, my Anna Aren don't want none unless your girl's blonde hun." Her grin grew to be a wolfish leer, intent on devouring Elsa where she stood.

Elsa knew that the confidence she exuded on stage was like a pheromone to Anna, after all there was nothing sexier on a woman than confidence; let alone a five foot eight blonde bombshell with confidence. Luckily for their dignity, it would take a lot more than clever wordplay and voracious gazes to break Elsa's cool.

"Aren't you sweet," she responded; cooing at the pout that formed Anna's response.

"Well ladies, seems like you have tonight all wrapped up." A rapidly colouring Thomas said, fully aware of the increased tension between the two. "I'll see you around," he shot at the pair as he disappeared into the madness; attempting to pursue one of the models that he'd seen wandering around with some red haired gentleman.

The two stayed staring at each other contentedly. Not a care or concern for the resurrected beat and drone of the music, they were happy to exist in a moment of adoration. In the midst of the party, lips met and eyes of ice and ocean met again.

"Wanna go home?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

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><p><strong>AN: **

**I couldn't resist writing a little more from this universe, just a little bit of catharsis for the writer in me.  
>If you like the story reviewfavourite/follow and if you have anything that you'd like to see in the 'Voiceless' universe, then let me know and I will see if I can write it. I do have a plan for these one-shots but you'll have to wait and see. **

**By the way: The _Arendhelle_ cover of 'Do You Want To Build a Snowman' is up on Soundcloud right now so search 'Do You Wanna Build a Snowman (Arendhelle Cover)' to listen to it. **

**It's nice to be back in the saddle for a little while; I'm not promising any regular updates. This is just to keep me writing what I like to write.**

**If this is your first time in the 'Voiceless' universe, make sure you check the original for a grounding in characters. **

**Much love  
>Harvington III<strong>


	2. Chapter Two: Christmas for Two

It began with a box of tinsel, then a subtle bauble hung on a piece of studio gear and then this.

"Elsa give me a hand!" The amorphous piece of foliage blocking the door to Elsa's apartment yelled as it tried to negotiate the frame of the door.

"No! It is too early for this," Elsa replied; raising her voice to penetrate the mass of green that obscured her obviously indoctrinated girlfriend.

"It is never too early for Christmas and I did not lug this tree up a hundred and twelve steps to have to take it back again."

The tree heaved against the frame and ambiguous cracking sound reached Elsa's startled ears. She took a wary step back as the tree flew through the door with it's red headed purchaser in tow. Both greenery and girl hit the floor, scattering pine needles all over the room.

"Anna!" Elsa yelped, rushing to help the girl who had her face buried in the prickly mass.

"Don't touch me," came the paced, calm reply.

"I am surrounded by Christmas tree needles, the wrong application of pressure could result in a lethal dose of Christmas," she took a deep breath "even for me."

Elsa wore quirked smile. "And I couldn't possibly deal with my scrooge-ism being cured could I?"

Anna dropped all pretence and stared up incredulously at the blonde.

"Are you for real?" She asked, heaving herself up from the mass. "How do you not love Christmas?" she questioned; her sincerity diminished by the needles sticking out of her hair.

Attempting to suppress a giggle she walked over to Anna and began picking the needles out of her hair.

"I guess it's never been one of those things that I do," the smile developed a melancholy pull that betrayed her excuse to Anna.

"Come on Elsa," she pleaded, taking hold of the hand that was busying itself with her hair. "What's the real reason?"

Elsa pulled her hand loose of Anna's and made her way to the kitchen. "Do you want a hot chocolate?"

Anna sighed acknowledging that this was one of those things that wasn't going to come out easily.

"Yeah," she breathed as she followed the blonde into the kitchen leaving the christmas tree felled in the entryway.

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><p>Elsa busied herself with Anna's hot chocolate: three teaspoons of powder and a marshmallow prior to adding hot water. Christmas was always a bitter subject for someone who was practically orphaned. It seemed so silly that Anna couldn't put two and two together: her parents being dead plus a time where people are usually around family are not conducive to a positive disposition about Christmas. She was vaguely aware of Anna behind her but everything else felt numb.<p>

"I'm sorry Elsa, I didn't mean to make a mess. You see I just thought that 'oh Elsa doesn't have a Christmas tree' and I was at this super cute German Market in Central Park and they had some Christmas trees and I just got paid this Saturday, so I thought 'I'll surprise her and we'll decorate the Christmas tree together to the sound of Christmas jazz."

The room fell eerily silent when Anna finished.

"Well I guess I can add word vomit to the list of things to clean up."

Through all the numbness that Elsa felt, that one line broke the cold and injected a warmth straight to her heart. She laughed. It was a broken laugh but a laugh none the less.

"It's nice to know you're still there," Anna said, sliding forward to put her arms around the woman.

"Barely," Elsa whispered over her shoulder.

"Let's talk," Anna yipped in Elsa's ear. "I'll order pizza from that Romany place in Midtown and we can snuggle whilst listening to Taylor Swift and talk about stuff."

Elsa could feel the expectant smile radiating from behind her and couldn't resist but smile back.

"The number is on the fridge, I'll sort drinks and the playlist."

Anna negotiated her head around the slightly taller girl's shoulder and placed a kiss on her cheek. "I'll get on it." She whipped around to the fridge and removed the leaflet before reaching into her phone and typing the number in.

Despite her obvious inability to draw conclusions from clearly drawn out information Anna was willing to talk, instead of struggling on with ambiguity. It was endearing to the nth degree and she always knew how to get the best out of Elsa, which was an achievement in itself.

"ETA on pizza is twenty minutes," Anna's voice sounded from the hallway, "I'm sorting out blankets in the studio."

"Got it," she acknowledged over her shoulder, as she worked through the playlist in her head. She wanted to take Anna to a place where she understood the emptiness that came to her every December twenty-fifth. The album was visualised in her head; 'Anti-Christmas Volume One' featuring: 'Blue Christmas', 'In the Bleak Midwinter', 'Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)' and more. The songs were a good starting place and any further than that she could tweak on the fly. A great playlist was the difference between 'what should work' and 'what does work'. Sometimes the best playlists have a subversive song in the mix; a wolf among sheep. With this method she could match the mood of the room to the song: depressing; then 'Blue Christmas', maudlin; then 'In the Bleak Midwinter' and if it looked like it was gonna be okay; 'Baby please come home'. From there it was a by ear kind of thing.

Satisfied with music choices she finished up the drinks by adding some marshmallows to both cups before negotiating the tray into the living room-cum-studio. Anna was propped up against the upturned speaker cabinet that functioned as a coffee table; bearing the stains to prove it. Placing the tray on the cabinet, Elsa slid under the blanket that Anna had retrieved from the box of soundproofing materials that went up when Elsa was recording material for _Arendhelle_ or for personal pleasure.

"So let's talk?" Anna started, reaching for her steaming beverage with sincere innocent concern wrapped on her face.

"Let me just start the playlist off," the blonde replied fiddling with her phone.

Through the studio monitors came the sweet sound of Death Cab For Cutie's 'Baby Please Come Home' as Elsa launched into the story of her last Christmas with her parents.

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><p>"I struggle to remember this in great detail, but what I do remember is the security of knowing that they were there for me. They weren't going anywhere." She trailed off weakly into silence.<p>

The words forced her to collect herself, a deep breath later she was continuing on.

"Forever, Christmas will be my mothers. It'll be the moment when they forgot about the hate and the prejudice from the parents, the world and the schools and remembered what was important."

Another deep breath.

"Me." Her voice cracked and eyes misted. "That might be why they did what they did," the tears flowed freely now.

Anna shifted, making her proximity all the more apparent to Elsa. What usually drove people from her was drawing Anna closer.

"It wasn't your fault, Elsa. It was because they loved you so much that…" she struggled to find a pleasant way to describe their mutual suicide and settled for "…they did what they did." She placed a kiss on Elsa's cheek, catching a tear as it fell as if her kisses could heal the scars that so clearly marked her girlfriend.

The kisses continued to battle the overwhelming cold that was frantically trying to regain ground around Elsa's heart. Every pair of lips on cheeks trumped every doubt that Elsa had about Anna's response to her past. Settling against each other the two looked out at New York in the snow as the music faded into silence.

"End of the playlist," Elsa murmured, reaching for her phone to select the next song. Her hand was stayed by Anna, who with her other hand began rummaging in the pockets of the waylaid coat.

"Two seconds…" She strained, desperately trying to grasp the contents of her pocket whilst attempting to prevent Elsa from starting a song. She had learnt in the early stages of their musical appreciation sessions that Elsa couldn't abide a song unfinished and every song had to be played through to the end.

Elsa simply looked bemused by her lovers' peculiar behaviour and locked her phone, allowing Anna a second hand with which to locate the item.

"Ah hah!" Anna yelled swinging her arm around; narrowly missing Elsa in the process.

Elsa studied the CD in her hand: 'Elsa's Christmas Mix 2K14 #merrypunkmas'.

"You seriously threw a hashtag in there?" Elsa rolled her eyes at Anna.

"It's because it's #fabulous," she replied, scurrying over to the makeshift Hi-Fi system and inserting the CD into the relevant slot. "Besides it's just a little bit of fun.'

"You and I have very different definitions of fun." Elsa sassed back at the redhead who turned smugly to the blonde on the floor.

"Luckily, you and I have very similar definitions of good music," she replied, pressing play on the system as she made her way back over to the woman. The orchestral music swelled into the first coda of 'White Christmas'.

"Even luckier are you to have someone who absolutely adores you," she said sweetly. She reached down to Elsa and took hold of her hand.

"Let's make some Christmas memories."

So it was: that on the eleventh floor of a downtown apartment in New York City, Anna Aren restored Elsa Winters love of a time which had plagued her since childhood, the past that kept her sombre was a mere echo and the memories being made were the harmonies to melodies of woman in love.

Merry Christmas.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **

**Merry Christmas to all of the FanFiction family. Hope you spend time with family and find the real meaning of Christmas to you.  
><strong>**Spread a little joy: buy a random person coffee, give a homeless person some food or simply spend time with your parents/grandparents. **

**As for me and my house, we will be pumping up the Christmas jamz. **

**Much love  
>Harvington III<strong>


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